More than a friend

Today is the birthday of one of the best people I know. Do you know what it means to be a friend? Most of what I know about friendship I learned from Priscilla. She was my mother's best friend. They met as young mothers, when I was so young I don't even remember, and were friends until my mother's death. She has been the "other mother" in my life, for essentially all my life.

Here she is, circa 1954, all dressed up in hose and high heels, feeding the ducks in a Boise park with four little girls—me, her daughters Kathleen and Leslie, and my sister Becky. We girls were great friends, Kathleen and I close in age and Leslie and Becky close in age. (Her third daughter Nancy, and my brother Steve came along a few years later) We shared birthdays, holidays, went to camp together, played together. Our parents played bridge and picnic-ed and sailed and traveled together. When my parents built their cabin, Priscilla and her clever and sweet husband Phil, were hammering nails and skinning logs right alongside them. When the cabin was finished we spent many, many weekends together there with Phil's canoe on the lake and evening card games and glorious meals that Mom and Priscilla would cook in the tiny cabin kitchen.

From Priscilla I learned that being a friend meant being there through it all. If you were sick she not only brought you dinner, she stayed long enough to clean the bathroom and do the dishes. She accepts and loves her friends, despite differing backgrounds or philosophies, with the most open heart and open mind of anyone I know. It is a gift I strive for in myself and wish more people possessed.

Here she is today, at the age of 85, with grace, smile, sense of humor and style fully intact.

One little story to tell you something about our relationship, and maybe a  kind of spooky power she possesses! A number of years ago we did a lot of renovating of the kitchen in our old house. In addition to paint and new floor and counter tops, I bought new appliances, except for the refrigerator—the old one was still going strong. I think I wrote Priscilla and sent some pictures of the changes we'd made. I said the only flaw, in my opinion, was the old refrigerator which was a different color from the new appliances and didn't look too great—but eventually it would die and I would replace it. A few days later she called and started out, "Now I know this is none of my business, BUT—I have been thinking what your mother would have advised and I know she would tell you to BUY THE NEW REFRIGERATOR NOW!"  Then she assured me that I should do whatever I thought best, but oh, she really thought I ought to replace the ugly old refrigerator. Then we talked about other things and I hung up thinking how sweet it was that she even cared about my refrigerator and maybe I'd go take a look at new ones tomorrow. The next morning, when I got up, I found a huge puddle of yucky water on the kitchen floor, emerging from  under the ugly, now dead-as-a-doornail, old refrigerator. My first thought was to wonder how she did that, then I headed out to the appliance store with a happy smile on my face.

Priscilla, I love you with all my heart and feel so blessed to have you in my life. I am so sad that I wasn't able to come to Idaho for your birthday celebration. Have a wonderful birthday!